


Coming Up For Air

by elisewrites



Series: Beautiful Wreckage [11]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort No Hurt, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, morning after sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisewrites/pseuds/elisewrites
Summary: It's not exactly a rare occasion when she's regarded as a glutton for punishment.Guilt has a habit of festering like a wound left open to the elements.Sure, the blood will clot, the bleeding will stop, but you're left with this bright ugly gash that would've been far less obvious had you treated it from the beginning.She's allowed her guilt to fester for far too long now to hope that slapping a bandage crafted from a few choice reassurances will do much good to assuage it.Occasionally, though, the sensation of leaving it open is too painful to bear.So she grabs a shit ton of band-aids, and she gets to work, layering them until she feels whole again.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: Beautiful Wreckage [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1387072
Comments: 14
Kudos: 101





	Coming Up For Air

The first thing Beth registers when she cracks an eye open is the glare of daylight streaming through the porch doors. The second thing is the arm that encircles her bare waist, tightening its hold on her when she tries to get a view of who it’s attached to. 

Her breath catches softly at the sight of Rio’s form at her back, her gaze absently roaming over the miles of tanned skin where he’s got her tucked into his chest. His arm is trapped beneath her own and before she can think twice about it, her fingers are timidly dancing across the inked skin of his shoulder, tracing the lines there like a prayer.

He doesn’t so much as shift beneath her when she studies him for a reaction, his breathing deep and even against the curve of her neck and it’s startling—the blistering waves of emotion that flood through her like a dam in her chest has burst. Recollections of last night start to enter her mind in flashes, her heart rate picking up as memories of him—or, _them,_ rather—rapidly filter in.

Her reminiscence is scattered, forcing her to pick through her brain to make sense of it. The parts of it that _do_ stand out have her face and chest flushing as the heat from last night returns in full force.

First, it’s the memory of his hands, mapping out the skin beneath them like he was committing her to memory. Hands that had gripped beneath her thighs as he’d hauled her from her barstool, bearing her weight with ease as she locked herself around his hips. 

Then it’s the image of him above her, looming in his height as he’d deposited her atop her comforter, retreating slightly from her when she’d begun to toy with the hem of his shirt. She’d doubted herself, then; feared that she’d overstepped a boundary, that their sphere of intimacy was far more confined than she’d permitted herself to believe. 

Briefly, she’d considered that it might be another remittal: sparing her from bearing witness to the damage she’d done to him. 

Rio, however, had no hesitation in casting her worries aside. His movements were deliberate and placating when he’d reached for the buttons of his shirt, working down the column of his torso with expert fingers. She’d been caught off guard by the way her body had reacted as she’d watched him—the thought of those fingers working at something _far_ different than his shirt causing heat to flood through her immediately.

What came next has to be one of the starkest recollections Beth can pull from the previous night. She’d propped herself up on her elbows, wordlessly gazing up at Rio as he’d dropped his shirt to the floor, revealing his bare chest to her. The solid plains of his torso were just as familiar as they were foreign—golden brown skin encasing discreet, wiry strength—and she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to comprehend how such a flawed person can exist in such a flawless vessel.

More than that, though, she recalls the obstinate lull between them when her breath had caught in her throat, her eyes widening in horror as her gaze roamed over the scars _she’d_ given him.

Her betrayal would forever mark him like an infernal constellation. 

The stark memory of it sits like a tumor in her lungs—impossible to ignore whilst promising to kill her silently.

She remembers the burn of her tears as they welled up behind her eyelids, her hand trembling as it’d crossed the space between them, timidly tracing the rippled skin of the scar closest to his sternum. He’d made no move to stop her—even when her cool fingertips had skimmed across his abdomen, tracking the next scar to where it lay slightly lower and adjacent to the first—the marred skin there marking the wound that she knew was deeper than muscle and flesh.

Beth had slid further down, then, her legs hanging off the foot of the bed as she shuffled closer to Rio, inexplicably wired by the need to feel him closer, to feel his heartbeat; confirm that he was _real_ and _okay_. 

It was then that he had finally reacted, his body gently curving into her touch. She’d taken full advantage of it; had braced both hands just below his ribcage before brushing her lips against the uppermost of the three scars.

The shift in his demeanor was instantaneous.

The tension that’d been gripping him thus far had snapped in two. His hands had risen to clutch gently at her shoulders, his thumbs brushing over the outline of her collarbone. The groan he’d let out when she’d veered for the last scar was so hoarse it’d caused the heat swirling in her chest to sink _much_ lower.

Her lips had just brushed against his taut stomach when she’d felt his head dip above hers, his lips planting a lingering kiss at the crown of her head. And, see, she’d witnessed _many_ of his affectionate displays throughout her time knowing him—recognized that it was something he was naturally inclined to communicate through when his words were lacking—but this occasion had her freezing at the unexpected contact, her lips still pressed against his warm skin.

Beth had willed herself to act calm—willed away the butterflies rising invasively in her gut and matched her breathing to Rio’s, keying into the rise and fall of his chest until her body had relaxed against his again. The moment had lasted much longer than she thinks either of them anticipated it to, but he seemed content to let her do it. Content to hold her, to breathe her in, to feel her against him in a moment that wasn’t rushed by a slim timeframe or tainted by their past. 

She’d been more than willing to indulge in it.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before his hands were sliding up the back of her neck and into her hair, gripping it earnestly as he’d guided her lips to his for a bruising kiss. From there, every touch was just as feverish as it was deliberate.

It was different between them this time; that much Beth is sure of.

She’s fairly certain that she’s never experienced anything like it—has never been treated with such _reverence_ by someone who wasn’t related to her, nor felt the urge to pursue such a dense array of emotions as the one he’d unearthed in her.

It’s dizzying, attempting to take it all in; to stomach what this means for them going forward.

Her thoughts are scattered by a pair of lips pressing against the base of her spine and the throaty hum that follows. 

Beth shivers against him (because of course she does), and Rio senses it immediately (because of course he does) if the way his chest shakes with silent laughter is anything to go by. The arm encircling her waist tightens further as she starts to wriggle against him.

“Can see them gears turnin’ from here, mama,” he rasps, his gravelly voice streaked with sleep in the way that often has her thighs clenching. He spares her of his teasing, though, and she only registers what he’s just said when his eyelids flutter open, curiosity dancing in his drowsy eyes.

“What?” She asks, shooting for a guileless tone, but she isn’t quite selling it if the way he sighs deeply against her skin is an adequate tell. 

She’s still trying to decipher its meaning when the hand that he’s settled on her abdomen is suddenly gliding upwards.

“I know you tossin’ some shit around in your head, overthinkin’ and whatnot. It’s makin’ you tense up,” he says, his hand settling at the curve of her breast and cupping it lightly as he plants a kiss at the base of her neck. The action shouldn’t be as comforting as it is and she’s sinking into it immediately, making a point to loosen her shoulders and roll them back against his broad chest.

“There you go,” Rio purrs, the unbridled affection in his voice catching Beth so wildly off guard that she’s wriggling in his grip all over again, leveling her gaze with his. 

His eyes are hooded as he regards her lazily, and it’s unnerving that even in his post-sleep, post-sex haze, his gaze still burns right through her.

“What’s goin’ on, darlin’?” He murmurs, close enough that his warm breath caresses her cheek. “Cause somethin’s causin’ that pretty crease you got goin’ on,” He adds, gliding a thumb along the bridge of her nose and pressing lightly against the pressure point at her temple. She feels a tepid flush spread across her cheeks, resisting the urge to squirm under his attention.

Beth considers being honest for once—opening up about the emotions Rio has drawn out of her and confronting the uncertainty of where they stand—but the words shrivel up too quickly on her tongue. 

She’s never been good at this; never developed an affinity for letting others past the walls she’d spent so many lonely, painful years building. When her gaze returns to his, it’s as if he’s already flipped open her cover, skimming through her thoughts while she’d been shutting them away.

There’s something distinctly knowing in his gaze, like he already knew she wouldn’t be divulging anything to him—not yet, at least, in this fragile of a moment. She sinks a little further into the mattress, glad to rest in the comfort of his silence for a moment longer. The hand resting against her breast slips down again, tracing the contour of her waist, and she finds herself wriggling closer to him as he settles his hand on the curve of her hip, pulling her into him.

Satisfied with having closed the gap between them, Rio’s attention reverts to studying her, his features shifting into something more deliberative as he looks her over. A few beats pass where all she can hear is the exchange of their breaths before he seems to complete whatever mental test he’d been proctoring. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, clearly having made his conclusion.

“Thought I would’a snuck out by now, huh?”

Beth’s eyes immediately widen into saucers, startled by his blatancy (though it really shouldn’t come as a surprise). Her response is immediate as she begins to shake her head, adamantly denying it, though there’s a small part of her that knows it’s a rational assumption given her track record.

She flounders, the words to any rebuttal dying on her tongue, and she swears she’s seconds away from slapping him just to wipe the smug look from his infuriatingly handsome face. He raises his eyebrows at her, feigning curiosity, and she huffs out a frustrated sigh.

“I guess I just thought you’d be more…” she rolls her wrist loosely out into the space of her bedroom, fumbling for the right term. “Regretful.”

Rio’s brows furrow slightly as he considers her again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Beth clocks the movement before flitting her eyes back to his, attempting to read his expression with the same ease that he’d been able to read hers. He looks more guarded than he had a moment ago, the heedful line of his lips revealing a bit of disappointment, too. 

“Speakin’ for yourself?” He asks, an edge to his tone that has her wariness shifting into panic.

“No,” Beth replies instantly, the alarm in her voice clear even to her own ears. It seems to have been convicting enough, though, the doubt that had begun to creep along his features now fading from view. There’s a deeper explanation teetering on the tip of her tongue—the nagging, obsolete insecurity that begs her to ask _why me—_ but she clamps her mouth shut on it for the sake of the equanimity that’s settled over them like a blissful spell. 

Rio considers her for a moment longer, dark eyes studying her features before the corners of his lips quirk up. 

“Glad I ain’t gettin’ tossed out this time,” he hums, pleased, as his hand glides over her knee, and despite the lack of bitterness in his words, Beth feels the defense prying at her lips before she can help it.

“It was different then,” she says truthfully, standing her ground. He seems to scan her expression, searching for the insinuation behind her words through a nonverbal cue, but she keeps her face carefully neutral. He’s not the only one who can execute a good poker face.

“Yeah,” Rio replies after another moment of consideration. “Good thing you ain’t married no more. Controllin’ prick, that ex of yours.” 

As he says it, the hand resting on her knee curls so that he can grip beneath it; despite how intrigued she is by the sudden air of possessiveness, she presses on.

“He thought he was protecting the kids,” she says, though the argument is well and truly exhausted at this point. She regrets it as soon as it tumbles from her lips, unnerved by how well-versed she is in defending Dean after twenty years of shelling out excuses and second chances.

Rio dismisses it instantly, scoffing in disbelief before deliberately softening his expression. 

“Baby, he don’t need defendin’. He wasn’t protectin’ jack by takin’ ‘em away from you.”

Beth’s chest tightens at the mention of those desolate weeks she’d endured without her kids. The pain of Dean insinuating that she’d allow them anywhere near someone capable of harming them had felt as though he’d branded her heart with guilt. 

Of course _she_ knew that bringing the kids around Rio posed no threat to their safety, but she was also aware of the fact that kids are privy to far more than their parents are ever fully prepared for.

Frankly, she hadn’t even considered the emotional risks she’d been exposing her children to as she dug herself in deeper with him. She’d done an impressive job of convincing herself that she was in it for the kids; that every reckless, irreversible move she’d made was justifiable by them, but the ambiguity of her rational had only thickened when she had decided to sleep with him. 

It wasn’t a decision she’d take back if given the choice to, but as soon as the foundation of her justification began to crumble, she’d adapted a blissful state of ignorance when it came to any and all repercussions regarding her illicit activities.

Beth is drawn from her rumination by the touch of a calloused finger at her temple. When her eyes dart back to his, she thinks the fact that Rio had been able to prop himself up in bed without her noticing is more startling than his touch. An affectionate smile tugs at his lips as he watches her, the hand at her knee tightening in juxtaposition to the delicate slide of his pinky finger as he trails it across her cheekbone. She resists the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, the tenderness in his rapt gaze something she’s only witnessed from him a handful of times. 

“That wa’nt on you,” Rio drawls, like he’s heard every guilty thought. “Parentin’ ain’t a dictatorship. Takin’ kids away from a mama who loves them ain’t _protection.”_

He’s quiet for a few beats then, allowing time for his words to sink in; to stick in her head amongst the thousand other thoughts fighting for dominance. There’s something so content in his gaze as he studies her, gaze tracing her features in a way that’s familiar yet completely foreign to her, and she _still_ can’t grasp the reality of it. Can’t fathom how after all this time and all that she’s done to him, he can still regard her like he’s just witnessed her hanging the moon and stars above them; like she’s something to be revered.

“How do you do it?” Beth asks, and he raises a brow at her, prompting her to elaborate. She shakes her head softly at herself before elaborating, “Your son, I mean. How do you keep him out of it all and still manage to make time for him?”

Rio licks his lips, the action dart quick as he appears to mull over her question, his jaw rocking in the way it so often does when he’s weighing whether he should tell her something or not. He relents fairly quick, though, sighing as he drops the hand at her face to the pillow his head has just been resting on.

“You only got time for somethin’ if you carve it out. You gotta delegate the shit that don’t matter as much to other people so you still got time for the shit that does,” he explains, and despite his impassive tone of voice, she can’t ignore it once she’s latched onto it—the insinuation that she _could_ have made time for her kids if she’d been more canny about balancing her personal and professional life—and all be damned if it isn’t the perfect reminder of every mistake she’s made since Rio stormed into her life (or, rather, since _she_ stormed into _his_ , but regardless).

Beth must appear as pressed about this information as she feels, or maybe Rio has adapted the ability to read minds (given the odd chance that he can’t do so already), but he beats her to the punch before she can sort through her thoughts fast enough.

“That ain’t a knock, mama. You ain’t used to runnin’ a business, and you ain’t used to splittin’ your time with them. I been doin’ it with pop since he was born,” he says gently, effectively diffusing her. The hand at her knee begins to climb again, gliding from her knee to the back of her thigh and grazing the cleft of her ass, and she resists the urge to squirm further into his side. Her eyes fall from his to his chest, roaming across it and committing every sharp plane to memory. There’s an unmistakable pull at her heart when she studies the scars decorating his chest, scars that she gave him, and he must read it in her features because two of his fingers are immediately propping her chin up so that her eyes are level with his again.

“Elizabeth.”

Beth lifts her eyes, considering him impudently as she bites at her bottom lip. Rio huffs out a laugh, the noise drawing near one of endearment as he raises his hand to tug her lip out from beneath her top row of teeth. In the same moment that her tongue darts out to brush against the pad of his thumb, the hand resting on her ass delivers a forceful smack to it. 

His grin is just as salacious as it is triumphant when her lips part with a gasp, one hand kneading at her tender flesh while the other shifts to clutch at the back of her neck. She releases a shaky breath as he leverages his hold on her enough to shove his thigh between her own, the hand at her ass encouraging her to grind down against him.

The sensation of Rio’s skin against her bare center is enough to draw another sharp gasp from her, one of her hands seeking purchase at the back of his head while the other grasps for her pillow. His grin quickly slips away the moment she returns the notion, rolling her hips against him and digging her nails into the nape of his neck. His lips part as he studies her features intently, her eyebrows pinching together when he tenses his leg muscles against her. As soon as her lips part, he’s pitching forward to catch the bottom one between his teeth, biting down and applying enough pressure to make her hiss against him. 

It’s one more roll of her hips before their lips are colliding, molding together as he licks into her mouth, the hand at her neck ascending to tangle itself in her hair.

Rio tightens his grip on it immediately, the sparks of pain flitting down to where he’s rapidly stoking a fire in her abdomen. The contrast of his grip on her hair, palm at her ass, and leg between hers has her rocking onto her back, pulling him with her, seeking more friction from the points of contact between them. The hand clutching at his neck glides lower, ghosting over his sternum, pecs, and abs before it settles at his hip, just short of where he needs her touch, his cock already hard and pressing into the crease between her hip and thigh. He growls against her lips, tongue roughly gliding over the roof of her mouth in a way that makes her shiver beneath him.

Beth continues to rock her hips against him, her fevered urgency threatening to strip away the last scrap of clarity she has when his hand shifts to clutch at her hip. Rio meets her urgency with equal tenacity, spurring her on as he grinds her against him in time with each roll of her hips. She’s vaguely aware of the fact that she’s practically panting now—thinks that the friction he’s providing her with could be enough to push her over the edge—but she’s jerked from her haze when he suddenly pulls his thigh from the apex of hers. 

The loss of contact is enough to draw an indignant whine from her. Rio dignifies it with a knowing smirk, his white teeth stark against the curve of his lips.

“I’m gonna see how many times I can make you come,” Rio purrs haughtily, the hand at her hip drifting up to map out the curve of her waist as Beth squirms beneath him restlessly. “Gotta do somethin’ for me first, though, yeah?”

She squints up at him as some clarity returns to her hazy mind, feels a churlish flame spark in her belly at his smug instruction. His eyes are locked on the hand she has balled in the pillow and her brows furrow, squint intensifying as she tries to determine what he’s getting at. His tongue pokes out between his lips, wetting them, and she bites her own in response, a subconscious reaction that has him smirking. 

She loosens her grip on the back of his neck, studying his features for a reaction when she promptly drops it to his cock, fingers wrapping around the base and squeezing lightly. She hears his breath catch above her, nostrils flaring as his dark eyes drill through hers, and she only gets one stroke in before he’s moving in on her.

The hand curled in her hair is quickly relinquishing its grip, the movement dart quick as it drops to pry her hand from his cock. She’s only had the time to blink up at him before her hand is being pinned above her head, the motion so sharp that the bed is shaking gently beneath them. He gazes down at her through hooded eyes, his lips set impassively as he ghosts the hand at her waist down the curve of her hip. 

Beth considers the fact that she still has one free hand burrowed in her pillow, and although there’s a good to fair chance that he’ll take it out of commission as well, she doesn’t have a lot to lose from trying. 

She veers for his cock just as his expression begins to bleed arrogance, only managing to brush her fingertips against him before he’s capturing that hand, too, long fingers curling around her wrist and promptly shoving it back into the mattress. She peers up at him defiantly as he looms over her, wrists twisting futilely within his grip even after she's accepted that she won’t be breaking his hold. 

Rio appears to be entertained by her obvious struggle, the smirk that had been playing at his lips now cracking open into a grin. His eyes rake over her naked form below him, gaze pointedly appraising, as Beth tries to catch her breath. When his eyes finally return to hers, she tilts her chin up at him, lips sealed in frustration as he regards her with a sort of affectionate amusement. When she holds her silence, he raises an eyebrow at her, thumbs stroking along her life line on either wrist.

“Feel like listenin’ yet?”

“Not particularly,” Beth quips before bucking her hips up against Rio’s, straining to renew the heat he had sparked between her legs. 

Apparently it’s the wrong move, because in the next instant he’s shifting his grip so that her wrists are clasped together in one hand, freeing the other to roam back between them. He moves tantalizingly, grazing his fingertips across the top of her breast and tweaking her nipple so abruptly that she chokes on a whimper. He pays her no mind, though, eyes fixed on the heavy rise and fall of her chest as his hand settles back on her hip. His touch is meticulous and gentle—that is, until he’s clutching at the flesh of her hip and promptly forcing her back into the mattress.

“How ‘bout you try shuttin’ that sweet mouth o’ yours, then,” Rio drawls, to which Beth responds by doing the opposite, her jaw dropping in outrage. She’s racking her brain for a retort, determined to assert her last ditch of control in the situation, but he continues talking, pointedly cutting her off.

“See, I’m gonna let go of you,” he tells her quietly, emphasizing his words with a squeeze of her wrists. “And when I do, you gon’ let me do what I want to you. No touchin’ ‘less I say so.”

Despite herself, the words have Beth wriggling closer to him, arching her back at the promise in his tone. The hand that had been roaming along her waist makes its way back up her body, only stopping when it reaches her temple, two fingers brushing the hair of her bangs aside from where they’d fanned out across her forehead. Rio tucks the lock behind her ear, the motion achingly tender, but she catches onto his ulterior motives a second too late. 

His fingers wander into her hair, entangling themselves before promptly gathering the strands in his grip and tugging.

Beth lets out a yelp before glaring up at him, studiously ignoring the spike of heat that’s intermingled with the pain. Rio merely raises an eyebrow, seeing right through her as he absently rubs at the skin of her wrists again.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxes.

Confusion slices through the lust clouding her brain, her forehead furrowing in uncertainty.

“You gon’ keep your hands to yourself?” Rio clarifies with another germane squeeze of her wrists.

Beth sucks her lower lip into her mouth as she studies him—the determined set of his jaw, the jut of his lower lip, the hot look in his hooded eyes, steadfastly boring into hers—before swallowing her rising nerves and signaling her compliance with a nod. 

Rio’s grin is blinding as he immediately releases his grip on both her wrists and her hair.

Withdrawing slightly, though still looming over her, he runs his broad hands along her inner thighs, torturous in his patience as the burning knot in her stomach tightens. Every time his hands venture high enough to just barely brush against her cunt, her breathing quickens, her legs indiscernibly trembling with the strain of holding them open. Her own patience begins to thin rapidly, but she holds up her end of the deal, clutching the pillow beneath her head in a death grip.

“You got no idea how long I been thinkin’ ‘bout this,” he starts, voice dipping into a dulcet, raspy tenor. “Wonderin’ how I was gonna get my hands on you again. I knew it was gon’ happen, I just didn’t know when; didn’t know where,” he admits, eyes flitting up to gauge her reaction, and a pleased smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as her breaths start coming faster. He presses his thumbs along the muscles in her thighs, still withholding his touch from where she needs it most.

“Thought maybe it would happen before we got to talkin’, skippin’ over all the apologies and whatnot. Woulda made it rough and quick, makin’ sure to leave bruises where they’d remind you of it.”

Beth flushes to the roots of her hair as the images unwittingly form in her mind. She chokes on a whine when it sneaks past her lips, but she’s spared from the embarrassment of it as Rio’s fingers press harder into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, thumbs fleetingly brushing against her entrance before retreating again. She cants her hips towards him but he’s markedly unfazed, his gaze fastened to the rhythm he’s creating with his hands as they map out her skin.

“After seein’ you in that bar, hearin’ your voice again, I knew it wa’nt gon’ be like that. I wanted to take my time wit’ you, make it worth the time I missed,” he says, finally raising his gaze to study her features, desire burning sharply in his eyes, and Beth can feel her heartbeat stutter in her chest at the suddenness of it—of how loaded the moment becomes, the weight of his words settling over them both.

Something in her expression must give it away—the ache of the bruise he’s prodded at, or the jarring advertence to how hollow she felt in his absence once the initial grief has subsided (not to mention the guilt, though that had never truly dissipated)—because in the next moment he’s yanking her from it, sinking two fingers into her before her emotions can drag her under.

Beth cries out, her grip tightening in the pillow as her head falls back onto it, fighting the urge to shut her eyes. She trains them back on Rio instead, staring down at him through her lashes as he sets an unrelenting pace, crooking his fingers in time with the thrusts of his hand. She bucks her hips towards him, desperately seeking more friction, but he merely settles a hand at the curve of her waist, thumb digging into her hipbone as he presses her deeper into the mattress. He slides a third finger in alongside the others with ease and she can’t help the moan that tumbles from her lips, her knee knocking against his chest as she writhes beneath him.

Beth can feel her release drawing closer like a fuse has been lit on a stick of dynamite, Rio’s expert fingers continuously brushing against a patch of nerves that have her muscles twitching. It’s not enough, though, and she thinks he must sense it—the implicit request in her quivering voice when she breathes, “Please.”

This time, at least, he obliges—seeming too enthralled with the way her body trembles beneath his touch to prolong his teasing—as he sets the pad of this thumb against her clit, rounding it in controlled circles. A strained sort of hum tears from her throat as she releases her grip on the pillow, slapping a hand over her eyes as heat licks across every nerve like a forest fire. 

Just as the pressure in Beth’s abdomen reaches its forte, her back arching off the bed as the tension in her muscles begins to release—his fingers are abruptly pausing inside her, his thumb stilling on her clit. 

She’s instantly sobered by the lack of friction, an objection prying at her lips just as Rio dips his head between her legs, replacing his thumb with his tongue in the same motion that he shoves his fingers back into her.

Beth cries out for what feels like the tenth time, the hand that’d been clutching at her pillow now grasping for his head, her fingers brushing over the short bristles of hair there. Rio roughens his tongue in response, laving over her clit with the flat of it as he repeatedly curls his fingers inside her cunt. 

It’s only a second more before the taut coil in her belly is releasing, the gasp she lets out when it hits her sounding like metal dropping on hardwood in the quiet of her bedroom. Pleasure floods through her body in waves, the ebb and flow of it loosening the tension in her limbs as she sinks into the bed.

Still, Rio is unrelenting with his tongue and fingers, working her through her high and drawing it out until she’s groaning above him. The coiled warmth from before gives way to an overwhelming heat beneath his touch, the too-much sensation threatening to burn her up. 

Beth’s hands come to clutch at his head again, though this time with a different intent. She attempts to pry his mouth from her—first nudging, then shoving at him as he purses his lips around her clit, undeterred, shifting to suck at it. She throws her head back, lips parting soundlessly with a bodily tremor, and it’s like she’s been pulled underwater by a rip current—forced beneath the surface by an unstoppable force, gasping for the last breath she can take before her lungs are deprived of air—because _holy shit,_ she’s coming _again_.

The intensity of her second peak has her wriggling away from him in the moments following it, scooting her ass as far as she can up the mattress. His mouth finally parts from her when her body begins to tremble beneath him, her thighs slamming closed as soon as he’s resting back on his haunches, and she can feel his gaze dragging over her form even after she squeezes her eyes shut. She knows her chest is heaving with her irregular breathing; knows his eyes are tracking it as she attempts to catch her breath.

Her eyes open a second later (though she doesn’t even recall closing them) when she feels Rio’s grip beneath one of her thighs, hauling her leg up and over his shoulder as he slides even closer. The sensation of his hard cock resting up against her cunt draws a sharp gasp from her, and she blinks up at him, clocking the lewd smirk on his lips before raising a eyebrow at him.

“You ain’t ever do as you’re told, huh, sweetheart?” he teases, dragging a hand up the thigh of her raised leg and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Beth bites down on her lip, startled by the rush of heat that erupts low in her belly at the rasp in his voice; it’s hoarse, like he’s restraining himself. Knowing that she’s the one who’s pushed him to that point is enough to have her nudging her hips towards him, the tip of his cock pressing against her again.

“We’ll work on that.”

Rio says it just before driving himself into her cunt, a noise somewhere between a moan and a gasp tumbling from her lips as he fills her to the brim. 

Beth lurches forward, rising onto her elbows to brace herself and even though he’d just warmed her up well under two minutes ago, his cock is a bit of a stretch to accommodate; not to mention how deep he’s able to reach in her when he’s got her leg over his shoulder. He reaches out to grab at one of her breasts, fingers pinching her nipple in time with his thrusts as he braces more of his weight forward. She can feel the burn in her leg muscles as he does so, her knee nearly reaching her shoulder, but she finds that it only amplifies the fire in her abdomen.

Rio settles his palm at the base of the knee resting on his shoulder, long fingers spreading like a web as they press into her flesh, holding her steady against him as he fucks her harder. Beth slaps her hand over the one clutching at her breast, squeezing him so hard she’s sure she’s hurting him a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His gaze is scalding, trained on their joined hands as she rocks beneath him with the force of his thrusts. He slows a fraction, then, teasing her as he switches to lengthy, drawn-out strokes that make her hips lift off the mattress. 

She sighs harshly, frustration popping along her nerves despite how sensitive her cunt feels. She studies the determination that pulls his features taut as he watches his cock slide in and out of her slick entrance with patient, calculated strokes.

Beth squirms beneath him, urging him to pick up the pace, but he’s completely enthralled by their connection. She tries squeezing his hand under the palm of hers, then opts for clenching around him when he offers no reaction.

Rio breaks out of his stupor with a guttural groan, his eyes flashing darkly when they flit up to meet hers. She holds his gaze, now panting heavily against his cheek, and in one swift motion he’s slipping the hand at her breast from beneath hers, curling his fingers around her hand and pinning it, palm up, in the sheets beside her head. 

Her breath catches sharply, and she can feel the rapid beat of her heart like a brick has been dropped on her chest as he tightens his grip, slotting his fingers between hers as he resumes fucking her at a rapid pace. She can feel something in her chest tear like a freshly opened wound—emotions she can’t put a name to pouring out for the man above her, and she doesn’t want to think about them right now, not in this fleeting a moment—so she does the first thing she can think of to scatter them: she kisses him.

The raw intensity of the moment seems to break open when their parted lips crash together, the kiss a flurry of teeth and tongue, and as he sends her tumbling over the edge for a third time, she can’t think of a single other time in the past two years when she felt this whole.

Beth clenches around him with a moan, her abdominal muscles quivering with the intensity of her orgasm, and it’s enough to drag Rio down with her. He buries himself to the hilt inside her, squeezing her hand in his as he spills inside of her with a low groan. 

He catches her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly before releasing her and soothing the nip with his tongue. The hand at her knee glides down her leg, unhurried, coming to settle at the back of her neck as he presses his forehead to hers. Their labored breaths mingle between parted lips, and she feels the wave of unnamed emotions that had previously broken free begin to rush back to her. When he pulls his head from hers, she allows her eyes to roam freely over his features, the tug of her heart only strengthening with the unbridled affection she finds in them.

Her heart feels like a brick in her chest, cemented in place by longing and regret, and she isn’t aware of the tears welling behind her eyelids until one is slipping free—sliding down her cheek only for Rio’s thumb to brush it away.

“Elizabeth?”

Beth blinks up at him, prompting another tear to slip free, but he just brushes that one away, too, before raising his fingers to brush at a piece of her hair, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“You good?” Rio asks, his hoarse voice no more than a whisper. 

She nods vehemently, wiping any stray tears from her eyes before squeezing his hand in a show of reassurance. A self-deprecating giggle escapes her, a meek smile now tugging at her lips as she pulls herself back together. He quirks a brow at her, seemingly caught between worry and amusement as he leans in to capture her lips in a slow kiss. 

She empties a breathy moan into it as he explores her mouth, drawing out the kiss until she clenches around him, his cock still softening inside her. He grunts, promptly breaking the kiss and pulling out of her as he does so. He rolls off of her, rising from the bed as she turns back onto her side, haphazardly pulling the sheets back over her.

Beth hears the sink running briefly and casts a lazy glance over her shoulder in time to see Rio approaching her with a wet cloth. A bashful smile tugs at the corner of her mouth and she inches up towards the headboard, propping herself up on her elbows again as climbs back into bed with it. He draws the sheet back from her legs before dragging the cloth along her inner thighs, making neat work of wiping their combined cum from her skin. His right hand settles at the back of her knee as he does so, gently holding her open as his thumb rubs small circles against her skin.

Once he’s finished, he does a quick survey of her room before tossing the cloth into her hamper. She can’t help but roll her eyes at the perfect arc of his throw, raising an eyebrow once his gaze returns to her. He gives her a cheeky grin before moving to settle in next to her, shuffling back against the headboard while she tugs the sheet up until it’s covering her chest. She lolls her head sideways so that she can see him better, fatigue fogging up the mirror of her consciousness, and she’s keenly aware that she must look as fucked-out as she feels.

“You ain’t hidin’ nothin’ I ain’t already seen, mama,” Rio teases, gaze pointedly dropping to her covered chest, and Beth purses her lips at him facetiously, writing him off with a limp wave of her hand.

“I don’t want you trying anything else before I can get some coffee,” she tosses back, nuzzling her face into her pillow. He huffs out a laugh at that, and she jumps lightly when his calloused fingers begin to dance along the base of her spine, gliding along the pressure point there.

She relaxes into his touch once he starts to establish a rhythm, working out the knots in her neck that she hadn’t even known were there.

“Sure you a’ight?” Rio hums, the syllables bleeding together harmoniously. Beth sighs heavily beneath his touch as a surge of contentment wraps around her like a warm weighted blanket.

“I’m alright,” she breathes, and she wants to say more—wants to try sorting through the tangled emotions she feels for him, wants to tell him how grateful she is for his forgiveness, tell him that she prefers having him by her side more than she doesn’t—but not this time, she decides. She can sit with her uncertainty for a little longer.

They’ve got time.

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends! i hope everyone is successfully dragging themselves to the finish line as the holidays rapidly approach.  
> i've flung every single textbook from my countertop in order to get this up for you all, but nothing takes priority over my inaugural smut chapter!  
> seriously though, i gave it my best shot, and i think it came out alright? i'm very happy with how this story has progressed, considering i wrote it from the ground up with no outline or planned structure. would not recommend, for future reference! it makes writer's block very easy to cave to.  
> i hope that i got you in your feels for a little bit there -- i wanted to write their make-up sex from beth's perspective because i feel like it'd be a lot more hectic for her, seeing his scars during such an intimate moment. i wanted this time to really have weight to it, for it to solidify this connection between them despite how far they have left to go, so i hope that came across fairly well :)  
> until next time, im going to sleep for 72 hours.


End file.
